


Master Elayna's Love Me Do - Added Scenes: Resort Vacation

by merry_amelie



Series: Stand-alones [5]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-24
Updated: 2003-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4464926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben and Quinn's romantic getaway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Master Elayna's Love Me Do - Added Scenes: Resort Vacation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elayna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Love Me Do](https://archiveofourown.org/works/186383) by [Elayna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/pseuds/Elayna). 



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> Many thanks to Master Elayna for her wonderful stories. This snippet was inspired by Ben and Quinn's holiday 60% of the way through Love Me Do. Quinn and Ben are among my favorite AR Qui and Obi alter egos. They belong together like melody and lyrics.
> 
> For Master Elayna, with gratitude.

"Ready for a round of golf, Quinn?" 

"I'd love that. Now I'll see what your gift can do for my game." 

They headed back to the inn, retrieving their golf bags from their separate rooms. The walk to the course was pleasant; despite the sunlight, the air was breezy and cool. 

Quinn relaxed as he realized that he'd shared these companionable moments with Ben for years: he'd never lose him as a friend and partner, even if Ben could not accept his love fully. 

Since it was Friday afternoon, they were alone on the course. Even so, Quinn had taught him so well about appropriate public behavior that Ben did not take advantage of the situation. 

Now that he had realized that his feelings for Quinn were serious, he longed to return the casual affection Quinn had lavished on him through the years. Encouraging smiles, pats on the shoulder, an always open ear for his every concern: Ben treasured these proofs of love. 

Ben knew how hard it must have been for Quinn to restrain his impulses to touch him and ask for more than he comfortably could give. His feelings newly awakened, Ben felt that same frustration now, here in this beautiful resort. 

If Quinn were a bird, he'd 'help' him with his swing, find a hundred little reasons to touch him. But constrained by Quinn's training and his own private nature, Ben kept his hands consciously to himself. There was something to be said for restraint, though: he felt the anticipation build within him in a way he'd never experienced before. Ben was extremely sensitive to each inadvertent brush of Quinn's sleeve against his arm, to his guiding hand as it corrected his stroke. 

They walked the greens and fairways, disdaining the golf carts, enjoying the exercise in the brisk weather. Laughing together over their own private jokes, Ben reflected that they had done these ordinary things together for years, and that nothing had changed, in all the important ways. They still had the closeness and the camaraderie; it was just deepening, now that Ben was starting to accept Quinn's love in all its forms. 

After the last putt on the 18th hole, on which Quinn scored a birdie, Ben threw up his hands in genial disgust. "Looks like my own gift did me in. I knew those clubs were the best." 

Quinn laughed as he grabbed his bag. "You're right. I think they've taken a few strokes off my game." He saw the fine sheen of sweat on Ben's face as they started walking to the inn. "Care for a swim before dinner?" 

"Definitely." 

They made for the shoreline, which was deserted. It was 6 pm, the usual dinner hour at the resort. The setting sun spread its orange fire across the bay. Looking around them and seeing no one, they moved into each other's arms, greatly daring. Quinn gentled a kiss on Ben's firm lips, allowing himself to linger in his embrace a few seconds more. 

As he brushed his hands over Ben's arms, Quinn felt goosebumps press against his fingers. Without a word, he shrugged off his oatmeal cardigan, and wrapped it around Ben. Quinn rolled up the sleeves and did the buttons, smiling into Ben's eyes and kissing his newly revealed palms. 

Ben felt exquisitely cared for, as he'd been every day since he'd met Quinn. "Can I keep this?" Ben asked, his voice uncharacteristically husky. 

"It's yours," Quinn said as he kissed him. 

They changed into their swimsuits in their separate rooms, meeting at the outdoor pool. Again luck was with them: they were alone in the pool, as the other guests were happily eating their gourmet meals. 

Quinn and Ben were more hungry for each other, but kept it carefully banked. Now was a tricky time, with only the barest scraps of material separating them, with only their sense of decorum as protection. 

Ben knew that Quinn loved to swim, and watched him arrow through the pool, entranced. Those long arms and legs powered him through the water like the speedboats they'd seen racing in the bay. He had a sudden urge to see if he could match that speed. 

One of the few luxuries he'd had back in Scotland was a blue lake about two miles from home. He'd spent his childhood summers playing and racing with his mates, most often winning. So he was confident of his own skill. 

"Come and get me!" he called, as Quinn reached the smooth-tiled side. 

Laughing, Quinn joined him, and they pushed off together on the first of many races that evening. Exhilaration was churning the air, as they turned out to be evenly matched. The final tally was five and five. 

"We'll be here all night, lad. Let's eat now," Quinn said breathlessly as the tenth race went to him. 

Ben grudgingly conceded the point. "Okay. Meet me at the restaurant in twenty minutes, and remember your new watch. That should have you there on time," he said with a grin. It was a private joke between them that Ben needed Quinn's excellent time sense to arrive at his concerts on schedule. 

The men dressed in their suits, Quinn's cream-colored, Ben's light brown, then met at The Cove, where they were seated in a private alcove with a picture window overlooking the bay. The restaurant was almost empty: with their impeccable timing, they had missed the most popular dinner hour. The boats were in for the evening, their white and striped sails adding triangles of color to the darkening blue of the sea. 

No one, waiters or bus staff, batted an eye at Benjamin and his manager. Gentlemen in business suits were a common sight at the inn, eating after their games of golf or boating. Part resort, part gentlemen's club, it provided protective coloration for them. Quinn and Ben were lucky that in the 1960s, two men playing golf together and dining afterwards were actually more common than a couple. The golfing revolution hadn't hit women yet, and business deals on the course were a way of life.

Both of them had to tamp down the urge to serve each other in small ways. Quinn was by nature a courtly man; Ben was discovering this side to himself after immersion in Quinn's company. So dinner was eaten with the minimum of brushing and fussing, though they did allow themselves a toast over the sauvignon blanc. 

"Thank you, Ben, for inviting me here. This is already a dream vacation." 

Ben all but blushed at Quinn's sweet smile. He had taken the lead for the first time in their relationship, and it felt good, right. A balance he had been searching for had fallen into place, connecting them like the two sides of a scale. He could see it in Quinn's eyes: he was talking to an equal partner, the way he'd talked to Philip in the early years, when they had still been lovers. 

"It's a dream for me too, Quinn. I've always loved just being with you." Ben discreetly brushed his fingers as he reached for his water glass. "Our lives can be so chaotic, it's nice to relax for a change." 

The men leaned back in their cushioned armchairs simultaneously, grinning in satisfaction. Anticipation ran through them, both of the excellent meal they were about to share and their after-dinner activities. 

The multigrain rolls were fresh from the oven, absorbing the herbed butter like a sponge. Shrimp cocktail led to crabmeat au gratin, then on to a refreshing raspberry sorbet. One hunger assuaged, they were free to head upstairs to satisfy another.


End file.
